The descriptive track names and the album’s title induce a profound
silence. Because the names themselves tell more than anything, I would be
able to write about them. Albums like this are among my favourites to review; they offer enormous
freedom and offer space for contemplating thoughts to come out.
The album’s title I was too young to hear silence, immediately brings
one into retrospection, giving an awareness of how the mind and conscious
have changes with passing of years, altering our perspective on sounds,
music and silence. Patrick Shiroishi, in his description, explains going into a cave-like parking lot at 1:00 a.m, performing a single take on his saxophone, merging
it with the silence and the natural reverberation of the surrounding space.
Such albums feel so natural space that it seems they become a part of the
listener, or to put it better, the listener becomes a part of the soundscape
of the album. Track by track, it’s interesting how each name perfectly
encapsulates the essence of the music played. The opening track, “stand still
like a hummingbird,” transfers the tranquility of the world into sound,
making the listeners stand still and observe the world around them. The
subsequent track, “I almost said,” evokes a feeling of stifled, with the
saxophone describing the feeling of struggle to express suppressed words.
Transitioning into moments of energetic sounds, mirroring the inside
feeling of the suppressed thoughts.
The album continues, weaving magical sounds with amazing natural reverb,
evoking a transcendental state within the listener. One track that made me come back to this album was “How Will We Get Back to
Life Again?”, there is a mystical vibe to it, which immediately brought me
to think of the philosopher Gurdjieff, the track’s name reinforces this
connection; Gurdjieff’s main idea was that people live in a state of
hypnotic “waking sleep”, but it is possible to be awaken to a higher state
of consciousness. As Gurdjieff himself being a composer and a (Sufi) dance
teacher, he likely considered music as a mean to achieve that higher state
of consciousness. Shiroishi, in my view, here opened a gate into getting
back to life again, or through Gurdjieff’s philosophy, a gate into
awakening into the higher state of consciousness.
The album offers a 40-minute turning off of the world, allowing the
listeners to attune themselves into mystical frequencies played solely by a
single instrument. So if you would like to take a break of the “hypnotic
sleep”, I highly recommend giving this album a listen.
OOYH Records owners Scott Clark and Adam Hopkins collaborate for the first
time on record on Dawn & Dusk. Clark may be a familiar name to
many. He has several releases as leader under his belt, including 2016’s
Bury My Heart
on Clean Feed and 2021’s potently poignant solo percussion
The Darkness
on OOYH. Dawn &Duskis a step beyond these
two. On it, Clark and Hopkins are joined by Laura Ann Singh on vocals , Bob
Miller on trumpet and flugelhorn, J.C. Kuhl on bass clarinet and tenor
saxophone and Michael McNeill on piano.
Dawn & Dusk is powerful suite, though in a different way from,
for instance, the maudlin and probing This Darkness. It is
cyclical, spanning the rising and setting of the sun, always with the hint
if not always overwhelming presence of shade. The mood can be somber, as in
the impressionistically tonal opener The Wind. The refrains are catchy; the
band, of course, is much larger and really sounds like a tight unit. Tight,
however, in an open way, wherein the composed portions bleed into the
improvisations almost without notice. Once the listener homes in on the
structure, they realize that something subtle has changed, that a horn has
wandered here or there, though the underlying harmonic and modal logic
remain. Clark and Hopkins keep the plodding rhythmic drive. Laura Ann
Singh, previously unknown to me, has a hauntingly angelic voice, that is at
once assertive and fragile. If anyone is showcased on this, she is, and for
good reason.
The insistent 'Silent Singing,' the third track, closes with a somber
meditation on the repeated phrase, “and hum to ourselves,” followed by some
glittering, afterglow piano and soft accompaniment that persists for
several minutes. The closer, 'Above the Gray' seems to pick up as dusk starts
to give way. It is bluesy but spread out, and picks up into a jaunty jazz
portion about halfway through, replete with solo reed and brass sections.
It is a brief second wind, or a coda. And it both punctuates and reopens
the story, as any good sunrise should.
Now for the studio/live divergence. This is an interesting project. The
percussion comes out more strongly in the live recording and a few passages,
especially in 'Silent Singing,' extend in interesting ways. This music,
however, seems largely scripted, and the value in the live recording lies
not in the deviations but in the intensity. The studio recording is
beautiful. The live recording has just a little more rawness, a few more
exposed and frayed edges. For that it lends some additional gravity to an
already heavy and introspective release. Which, I guess, brings us back to
This Darkness. Dawn & Dusk is a very different album
in many ways, but that retreat into the interior, the metaphorical and very
real shades of dark implied in every dawn and heralded by every dusk,
connects these releases in terms of concept as well as mood.
Dawn & Dusk is available as on LP and CD and as a download
here.
The first update is a release by Brian Chase's Chaikin Records, a young label that - not unlike your humble servant - is fascinated by solo material. The already released "Vol. 1 - Bass" (2020), "Vol. 2 - Cello" (2020), "Vol. 3 - Drums" (2021). And now Trumpet. The four featured musicians are Peter Evans, Steph Richards, Joe Moffett with two pieces, and Nate Wooley.
All material was recorded in spring of this year. This is definitely not music that will provide much comfort or bring you in a Christmas atmosphere, but for people with open ears it is a real treat. All four musicians go the extra mile in a relatively short performance, ranging from three to twelve minutes, without any further concern than to deliver this one single improvisation.
The joy of the album is also the variation in tone, style and sound of each player. Peter Evans really pushes the envelope on his piccolo trumpet, while Steph Richards offers much warmer tones on her flugelhorn, but also with surprises and sudden changes in mood and technical delivery. Joe Moffett is not surprisingly the trumpet player who goes beyond all boundaries, searching the possibilities and limits, in a kind of personal physical battle with his instrument. Nate Wooley's piece is inspired by the visual art of Audra Wolowiec, and is more abstract, with structural repetitions and perspectives, using his amplifier as a tool to create even more never-heard innovative sounds.
"Croon" is his first solo album. It is a wonderful exhibition of novel sounds that the trumpet may produce, for quiet multiphonic whispers to clarion-clear tones, and everything in between. The titles of the pieces may already give you a glimpse of their nature: "Bay", "Whir", "Croon", "Squall", "Purr", "Clamor", "Chant", "Mope". You wonder how he does it. Some techniques defy understanding, like the singing while playing trumpet on "Chant", yet it all sounds a little too programmatic, providing an overview of possible sounds, as if we're in a museum. I wish I could have heard the use of the same techniques in an album with a stronger musical vision, a translation into something more committed.
At rock concerts in the 1960s and 70s drum solos were the part of the show
that, unless you were a drummer yourself, you could most likely do without.
More often than not, it felt like drummers were stroking their egos by
playing a series of rather basic rhythms as fast as they could, with little
or no overall cohesion or unifying concept. What played almost no role at
all was melodic phrasing. Listeners, however, often tend to focus their
attention on the phrasing of the melodies in the music, even though the
rhythm is of course also important - especially in freely improvised music.
If Rudi Fischerlehner had played in one of the supergroups of the 60s and
70s, one would have looked forward to his solos.
Olaf Rupp, with whom Fischerlehner often plays (e.g. in Xenofox), summed
it up nicely in one of our Sunday interviews: “Rudi has found a wonderful
way to bridge the gap between regular looping beats and free flowing pulse.
It reminds me of the orbiting grooves that Björk once had on an app she
published. Like multiple, circular layers of polymetric patterns. This gives
the other players a lot of freedom to choose without breaking up the
connection.“ On Spectral Nichts - a pretty pun with the words “Nichts“
(German for “Nothing“) and “night“ - Fischerlehner has found a way to bring
this bridge even more visibly into focus. The first two tracks on the album
are representative of this.
On the one hand, there is “Rhythm Sculpture“, the opener, which is exactly
what the name says: a block of shapes made of rhythms. These are the
looping beats mentioned by Rupp, but they have nothing of the hectic pace of
Drum'n'Bass, instead coming across as transparent, almost repetitive in the
style of minimal music. The piece drags along, it is the rhythmic shifts
that captivate the listener. Only at the very end the speed accelerates
dramatically. In “Intuition Repeat“, on the other hand, he highlights the
free flowing pulse presenting us his cornucopia of forms, wiping, rattling,
scratching, and crackling. There is no technical skill on display here,
it’s all about subtleties, setting pointillistic accents, synaesthesia, and
ultimately also about sounds and little melodic blasts.
Spectral Nichts is an excellent, surprisingly varied album. The liner
notes mention that it “describes a musical and emotional landscape of
polyrhythmic structures, abstract sound collages and aggressive drum
patterns. A musical world inspired by influences from Haitian and Japanese
music, musique concrète and turntablism, free jazz, punk and new music.“
True that.
Spectral Nichts is available as a CD and a download.
The experience of flow, when an ensemble really melts together and
decisions are made collectively, like one organism.
What quality do you most admire in the musicians you perform with?
Creativity. The ability to listen. The ability to develop a coherent
form/structure. With all due attention to detail not losing sight of the
big picture. Doesn’t hurt if they are nice people to hang out with.
Which historical musician/composer do you admire the most?
John Coltrane (not the most original choice I guess)
If you could resurrect a musician to perform with, who would it be?
Johannes Bauer. I played many, many concerts with Johannes, and these were the most
inspiring experiences. I miss him. I think we all miss him. If I could resurrect a musician I never played with to perform with, then I
would ask for Mr. Elvin Jones.
What would you still like to achieve musically in your life?
There is need on all fronts!
Are you interested in popular music and - if yes - what music/artist do
you particularly like?
I hardly ever listen to contemporary pop music deliberately. Frank Zappa is one of my heroes. I like the Beatles a lot. King Crimson, Gentle Giant, some late 60s / early 70s rock music. Sometimes funk, like James Brown or Sly Stone.
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Get rid of my beer belly.
Which of your albums are you most proud of?
That‘s a tough one! Of the more recent releases Black Holes Are Hard To
Find with Klaus Kugel and Kazuhisa Uchihashi is an album I‘m very happy
with, but I also like Forge with Alexander von Schlippenbach and Martin
Blume a lot.
Once an album of yours is released, do you still listen to it? And how
often?
Hardly ever. There are always new recordings of mine to evaluate, so my
need to listen to myself is covered.
Which album (from any musician) have you listened to the most in your
life?
Probably Hot Rats by Frank Zappa. But this might be misleading, because I
save certain albums that mean a lot to me for the „sacred moments“ and
therefore listen to them rather rarely, so the frequency is not that
significant.
What are you listening to at the moment?
Early „Electric Miles“ live recordings by the so-called lost quintet with
Wanye, Chick, Dave and Jack. This is not jazz-rock or fusion at all,
despite the use of an electric piano. This is proper free jazz! Sometimes
you find pointillistic textures that sound very „avantgarde“, like
Stockhausen‘s „Kontrapunkte“. And sometimes Wayne plays really ecstatic and
wild – almost like your regular screaming free jazz tenor player!
What artist outside music inspires you?
Thomas Mann, especially his opus magnum „Joseph und seine Brüder“. I also love the Austrian writer Thomas Bernhard for his very musical style,
his sense of form and his use of repetitive patterns.
Frank Paul Schubert reviewed on the Free Jazz Blog:
Drummer and composer Rodrigo Recabarren is from Santiago de Chile, but is
now based in Brooklyn, NYC. Over the past decade, Recabarren has recorded
and toured with artists including Guillermo Klein, Claudia Acuña, Perico
Sambeat, Brad Shepik, Melissa Aldana, Camila Meza, and Jeff Miles, among
others. He is also part of projects and groups including Beekman, MURAL,
and Novas Trio.
Novas Trio is Jeff Miles (Tomoko Omura, Dan Loomis, Kat Vokes, and more)
on guitars and vocals, Carlos Vera Larrucea (Santiago Philharmonic
Orchestra, Estay Vera Duo, Carlos Vera Quartet, and more) on vibraphone and
malletkat, and Recabarren on drums and percussion.
Time Choir follows their previous albums Borderfall in 2012 and Gravity’s Empire in 2016. Recabarren describes the trio’s music as,
“instrumental and very experimental,” and he is right. It is experimental
and improvised, yet the trio has crafted an adventurous sound integrating
Latin American roots with the tradition of jazz improvisation and indie
rock. Of the album, Recabarren says, “There are so many of us on this
planet and we are incredibly thankful to be sharing this journey with you
who drive and inspire us.”
From the expansive opening track, the music lures the listener as it
creates different moods, changes, and atmospheres. ‘A Box Shaped Heart’
lasts over eight minutes, and is packed with rhythm changes, style
variations, dynamic movement, and sonic interludes that weave their
complexities around each other in a seamless, variable, yet uncontrived
way.
‘Princess Irulan’ is expansive, lusty, and full of rich textures,
overridden somewhat by the synth that travels across the top, working
obtrusive lines over the harmonies – that somehow work when they should
not.
Across the album, there is a regular placement of slightly opposed
harmonics, and this creates intrigue and interest because further listens
allow the brain to figure out what it was your ears just picked up. Subtle
and clever, this drives interest.
Each track is different and includes a feature, like ‘Princess Irulan’ with
its vocal lines from Miles, and chunky rhythm patterns, or ‘Chuki’ with its
vibraphone introduction and off-set rhythms that alter subtly, then
completely before working back to the original patterns.
The stand-out track is ‘Nothing Personal’ with its rocky, experimental, and
divergent themes, interwoven with dynamic styling from the vibraphone and
percussion. The deep grooves nestling in the background of this track
provide a settled backdrop – in most places at least– over which the others
rise and soar. However, that settled pattern changes almost without the
listener being aware, and the track develops into an intense, divergent,
and quite beautiful creation.
There is an experimental element to this music, yet it is intricately
connected to Latin and jazz roots. ‘Buscando’ is another track which, over
little more than eight minutes, includes musical pathways leading to
changes, switches and dynamic deviations, while ‘Calcomania’ shows just how
much variation can be achieved using a single rhythm pattern, and ‘When It
Rains’ is (almost) a traditional jazz pattern – laced, of course, with the
Novas Trio take.
Despite there being just three musicians and no bass, the music feels full
and well-arranged to create layered, fulsome tracks.
Composed by, arranged by, and produced by John Zorn, the music on Nothing
Is As Real As Nothing continues Zorn’s exploration of music for guitar.
Zorn brings together three guitarists, Bill Frisell, Gyan Riley, and Julian
Lage, all outstanding musicians on their own right, to perform compositions
that blend their contributions together in gentle undulating lines - lines
that bring to mind sea journeys and distant shorelines.
In “The Unameable,” Zorn offers music that caresses and mildly rocks –
giving the impression of sea spray and the pleasant smell of salt air.
“Endgame,” the final piece, has a calm nature, a purple red sunset, that
abruptly changes into a brisk walk and a surprise.
Through their simpatico efforts, the Frisell, Riley and Lage bring the
music to life. Their pizzicato fingerings pluck each note with care and
their rhythmic pace flows with uniform grace and attention.
One can still ask if nothing is as real as nothing. But on this album, the
nothing is beautiful.
For the fans of solo trumpet albums, we have been given a treat this year. Several artists have come with their own view on music and the possibilities of personal expression without constraints.
Thomas Heberer - The Other Side of the Spoon (Self-Released, 2023)
German trumpeter Thomas Heberer dedicates his album to Tristan Honsinger, the American cellist who passed away this summer and with whom Heberer collaborated a lot over 25 years, primarily with the ICP Orchestra. Heberer testifies: "Tristan's wit and creative spirit, combined with his consequent rejection of the status quo, are the stuff of legend. And, he was an incredible cook! Those band meals he made for us during a snow storm in 2003, when we were stuck for days in an airport hotel in Denver, Colorado, were epic."
The album presents us eight tracks, clocking between two to four minutes, so it's not very long in total time, but the quality is excellent as can be expected. Heberer leads us through various sonic environments and sentiments, sometimes gentle and sweet, at other times exploratory and rebellious, with deep growls, whispers and more unclassifiable sounds, yet always fascinating and with a great sense of purity and authenticity.
Heberer made his archival albums available through his Bandcamp page, and that includes his early solo work from 1989, "The Heroic Millipede", "Kill Yr Darlins" from 1997, as well as "Stella" (2001), "Mouth" (2003), all albums on which he also uses keyboards, beats, and studio manipulation to achieve the final result. This album is much more direct, simple in its delivery and concept, intimate and sensitive, the kind of material that you hope to get from a stellar artist who has no longer anything to prove.
Next to Lina Allemano and Steph Richards, Nicole Rampersaud is another excellent female trumpet player from Canada, albeit with a different style and approach. She's been a member of various Braxton ensembles and of Eucaliptus, a Canadian band that includes Brodie West and Nick Fraser, who are also member of the Lina Allemano four. It's a small world in Canada ...
Even if her instrument is trumpet, Rampersaud's music is hard to qualify as jazz. It is built up of several layers of stretched trumpet sounds, that weave a slowly shifting background of kaleidoscopic variation over which the lead trumpet voice builds its narrative. It's no surprise that several track titles refer to 'panoramas', as this reflects well the sonic space presented here. The second part of the album contains more exploratory, angular and noisy pieces, equally with a collage of different voices.
Rampersaud creates her own musical universe, one that is both welcoming and strange, moving and surprising, using the full potential of pedals and processing, which at times does not do credit to the quality of her trumpet playing itself, but that's her own choice of course.
Italian trumpet player Flavio Zanuttini starts his album by an uptempo, joyful shor little dance on solo trumpet, playful and sensitive, setting the tone for a wonderful album of only acoustic sounds. The mood changes with the languid and slow sustained notes of the second track, a strong feat of breathing control and multiphonics. The track titles refer to the Ginkgo Biloba tree, inspired by a poem by Johan Wolfgang van Goethe (see below). The inspiration can be even taken more literally, as a musical expression or interpretation of the visual concept. The one called "Chioma d'Autunno" (Autumn canopy) brings a weird variation of exploratory sounds, alternated with recognisable voices, demonstrating the variety of colour in the tree, just like the next track 'Linfa' (sap) flows in circular rhtyhmic repetitions with minor variations. "Floema" has a deep and raw sense of yearning, performed with a wonderful raspy voice. On "Xylema", the trumpet's bell is probably resonating against paper to give a vibrating sound.
Like on Heberer's album, the pieces are short, they have their core theme, their creative concept and careful delivery, more poetry than epic.
The album ends with a variation on Ellington's "The Single Petal Of A Rose", a song equally inspired by the beautiful elements of nature, in a rendering that is possibly the most minimalist version ever performed.
An excellent album.
Ginkgo Biloba (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1815)
Dieses Baums Blatt, der von Osten
Meinem Garten anvertraut,
Giebt geheimen Sinn zu kosten,
Wie's den Wissenden erbaut,
Ist es Ein lebendig Wesen,
Das sich in sich selbst getrennt?
Sind es zwey, die sich erlesen,
Daß man sie als Eines kennt?
Solche Frage zu erwiedern,
Fand ich wohl den rechten Sinn,
Fühlst du nicht an meinen Liedern,
Daß ich Eins und doppelt bin?
This leaf from a tree in the East, Has been given to my garden. It reveals a certain secret, Which pleases me and thoughtful people.
Does it represent One living creature Which has divided itself? Or are these Two, which have decided, That they should be as One?
To reply to such a Question, I found the right answer: Do you notice in my songs and verses That I am One and Two?
Christian Wolff & Nate Wooley - For Trumpet Player (Tissu Tissu Editions, 2023)
This short album is performed by Nate Wooley, based on a composition by Christian Wolff. Wolff is an American composer of German origin whose works are in the broad avant-garde category of artists such as John Cage, Steve Reich, and Cornelius Cardew.
We read in the liner notes: "Written specifically for Wooley, Christian Wolff has constructed a gloriously knotty and Wolff-ian set of musical questions about pacing, silence, timbre, and melodic meaning that Wooley approaches with his naturally curious and improvisatory spirit".
We read on the Issue Project Room website: "Wooley describes the impetus of commissioning these works as coming from a desire to add music to the solo trumpet repertoire that met a certain aesthetic that felt lacking in the contemporary literature: music with an attention to non-linear forms, an attention to sound and timbre over technical flash, and music that was personal not only within the language of the composer but the player as well".
Sorry to copy sentences instead of writing a review, but I think these two paragraphs capture the intention well. Together with the link to the album, I also add two videos of different performances of the same composition. I will leave it to the reader to assess the differences, and to appreciate the absolute quality of the album.
Wooley has been a wonderful searcher for new musical forms, and you can only applaud him, not only for his incredible skills, but even more for his relentless exploration of musical possibilities.
Forbes Graham - I Continue (Infrequent Seams, 2023)
Then we move towards two solo trumpet albums that I personally find hard to listen to. Forbes Graham electronically alters the sound of his trumpet beyond recognition and beyond my personal comfort zone. I have nothing against breaking boundaries, so I invite fans to explore it.
João Almeida electronically alters the sound of his trumpet beyond recognition and beyond my personal comfort zone. I have nothing against breaking boundaries, so I invite fans to explore it.
Maybe I'm getting old, or maybe I'll have to get back to this music in a few years from now, when I might have a different mindset and possibly more open ears to fully appreciate it.
In addition to the many ensembles Vinny Golia leads and directs, he is also
a steady sideman and featured player with a number of groups led by younger
players. Among several he’s played on this year, three stood out.
Vinny Golia, Max Johnson and Weasel Walter - No Refunds (Unbroken Sounds,
2023)
Bassist Max Johnson recently released this trio date from 2014. Along with
drummer Weasel Walter, Johnson is a brilliantly free improviser. The set
runs just under an hour, flying so fast and free with Golia performing
Dolphy-esque leaps alongside Walter’s percussive fills. A fascinating
drummer, Walter has a wind player’s knack for pulling back suddenly before
a roaring processional. And Johnson playfully jumps from a kind of
supporting role to one more goading and directional. His round tone is
sometimes reminiscent of Ronnie Boykins (the set overall displays an early
ESP-Disk’ energy, especially some runs where Golia evokes John Tchicai).
Vinny Golia, Stueart Liebig and Nathan Hubbard - There Is a Light That Goes
On Automatically (Castor & Pollux Music, 2023)
Vijay Anderson’s Silverscreen Sextet - Urban Jungle: Los Angeles
(self-released, 2023)
Urban Jungle is Vijay Anderson’s second album with his
Silverscreen Sextet. This time around, he’s shuffled the lineup slightly:
cornetist Bobby Bradford, saxophonist Vinny Golia, tubaist William Roper,
and bassist Adam Lane form the core band, while artist crushed blacks
created an immersive video that functions as another instrument. Anderson
has deep roots in the Los Angeles creative-music scene, born and raised in
Southern California, he’s played with many West Coast luminaries (including
Bradford, Golia, and Roper) for decades. And on several other projects he’s
worked on with Bradford, Golia, Roper, and Lane, he’s consistently drawn
inspiration from visual media.
To go a little deeper on this one, Urban Jungle: Los Angeles
explores the city’s complexities through five chapters and interludes, which
include dedications to historian and critic Mike Davis, the brilliant artist
Simon Rodia (best known for his Nuestro Pueblo, or Watts Towers),
firefighter Sam Haskins (both the first Black firefighter at the Los
Angeles Fire Department and the first LAFD firefighter to die in the course
of duty), streetcar operator Arcola Philpot (the first Black operator for
the Los Angeles Railway) and the humanitarian Father Luis Olivares (who
lived by his religious ethics and made his church a haven for El Salvadoran
refugees in the 1980s).
Through both Anderson’s composing and the group’s improvising, the
evocation of these stories weaves a complicated tapestry. Come to this
album ready to learn, ready to think, and ready to have your complacency
challenged.
In 2021,
Ron Coulter reviewed the first movement of Even to This Day… and concluded, “each track leaves the listener eager to hear where the next
track will take them, even after the first 157!” At that time, we already
knew there would be two more movements, and now
Syncretism: For the Draw, the second movement, has been released on Vinny Golia’s own Nine Winds
record label.
Golia’s been composing and producing some of the most radically inventive
large ensemble and orchestral music of the past 40 years.
Even to This Day… Movement Two: Syncretism: For the Draw…
is, arguably, the maximalist fantasia he’s been building towards his entire
career. Much like Anthony Braxton’s epochal Trillium operas, the
whole of Even to This Day… will absolutely be a landmark in
Golia’s impressive and ongoing career. Scored for “guitarists, electronic
musicians, brass, woodwinds, percussionists, voices, and orchestra,”
Movement Two
highlights featured soloist and Cypriot musician Alkis Nicolaides, along
with guitarists Susan Alcorn, Nels Cline, Michael Fink, Josh Gerwitz, Henry
Kaiser, Alex Noice, GE Stinson, and Jake Vossler; Tany Ling, Will Salmon,
and Andrea Wolper on vocals; Ethan Marks and Dan Rosenboom on brass; Mason
Moy on tuba; Wayne Peet on piano, organ, and keyboards; Clay Chaplin,
Cheryl Leonard, Stueart Liebig, Tim Perkis, and Chas Smith on electronics
and homemade instruments; Tim Feeney; Gregory Lewis, and Ellington Peet on
drums and percussion; and Golia on various woodwinds and aerophones,
gongs, singing bowls, and crotales.
Much like Wadada Leo Smith’s Organic, featured on his 2011 album
Heart’s Reflection,
Golia’s ensemble sounds remarkably loose and open (almost in spite of the
dense orchestration). Passages of shredding guitar are paired with extended
moments of calm and sparse instrumentation. Solo lines slice through
seemingly Xenakis-inspired brass and metallic percussion, as on “Brass
Trio.” There are bold, Western landscape motifs, such as the spectacular,
canon-like “Elide.” Meditative, textural pieces like “Bonecrusher” mix with
pulsing, vocal showcases like “There it is!, 1328 Elm… is Freddy home?” The
humor in the titling throughout (see, for example, the mid-album features
“Wilfred’s lycanthropian desires have a dilemma with Dr. Yogami's
needs”—not as bracingly mired in binary opposition as its titles source
inspiration—and “The Lennie Tristano Memorial Homecoming Lunch”—punchy but
not as Zappaesque as its name and rhythms occasionally gesture towards)
along with the wry compositional is what one could call classic Golia. Like
his predecessor Braxton, Golia’s music is truly post-modern, the sanctity
is within the players and music, it doesn’t necessitate a false sense of
preciousness towards the notes on the page. This frees up the ensemble to
move lightly through even the knottiest passages.
The set’s core is undoubtedly the five-part “Suite for Alkis,” a feature
for Nicolaides that precipitated all 110 tracks of the movement. Taking up
45 minutes of the total time and distributed throughout the album, when
reordered and played on its own, it opens with caffeinated, surging energy.
Gradually leading to the third movement’s crystalline into, which gently
evokes the night sky over the California desert or, perhaps, the inland
city of Nicosia, and its mountain vistas. By the midpoint, interlocking
whorls of winds and guitars churn forwards like a great machine.
Nicolaides’s masterful guitar returns again to the fore during the smashing
fifth movement, which also features a standout drum solo and Peet playing
heavy, funky runs on organ. As an EP, it would undoubtedly stand on its
own, as part of the larger whole, “Suite for Alkis” is a launchpad for all
the places this took Golia, inspiring the remaining 105 compositions.
I think I cannot stress enough how much any fan of the Trillium
operas should dig into this. With a forthcoming third movement, Golia’s just
over halfway there. Yes, there’s plenty of music to appreciate while one
waits. As with many Oulipian writers, Golia has noted the album can be
listened to in any order, and of course "for any duration" can be inferred
from there. As we recommend often, dip in and out, don’t worry about taking
in the whole at once. A celestial landscape, Movement Twocombines
the astral with the terrestrial, and a listener’s openness begets
tremendous rewards.
